The Lady's Tournament
by Erlkonig
Summary: The wars are over, and peace rules the land. Brienne's father pleads with her to become Lady of House Tarth and to take a suitor. No more balls! Brienne will marry the man who bests her in the fighting ring. Can Jaime singlehandedly (no pun intended) defeat Brienne in a duel and win her hand? Post S8E3.
1. The Farewell

Ser Brienne entered Lady Sansa's study. "You called for me, my lady."

"I did. Please take a seat." Sansa looked troubled as she handed Brienne a letter. "I received a letter from your father, Lord Selwyn. Have a read."

Brienne leaned forward eagerly to read the letter.

_My dear Brienne, _

_I am heartened at your victory and relieved at your survival. I am so proud of you. My dear daughter has grown into an inspiring commander and the first woman knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Although I have the utmost confidence in you, I prayed to the seven gods for your safety. I set you on your path to become a warrior and a knight. Had my warrior daughter fallen at Winterfell, I would have bitterly regretted to the end of my days._

_Now in a time of peace, my deepest wish is for the future of House Tarth. I hope you will return to be the Lady and the future of our House._

_Love, Lord Selwyn Tarth, your father_

Brienne sighed, feeling annoyed and a little guilty. Curse the gods for leaving her as Selwyn's only heir. Turning to Sansa, she protested, "My lady, I am sworn to serve you."

Sansa thought deeply and chose her words carefully. "Ser Brienne, you are a loyal and skilled knight, and you fought for me during the wars against the Night King, and against Cersei. Now that I rule the North under Danaerys and my brother Jon, I am well protected. You will serve me well as Lady Tarth, ensuring that House Tarth remains loyal to me."

"My lady, my father has tried to find a suitor for me. There are no lords willing to marry me."

"For your service to me, I shall make House Tarth powerful and prosperous. Suitors will be drawn from across the Seven Kingdoms. You will find a good man, and perhaps he will come to love you, and you will love him."

_More likely an ambitious man would tolerate my appearance for wealth and status,_ Brienne thought to herself. She imagined playing the dutiful Lady to a Lord who carefully looked away from her, and a knot of dread formed in her stomach.

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Ser Podrick warily watched Brienne hacking at the training dummy. Although he was knighted for his bravery and skill in war, he did not dare cross Brienne now. She was pummeling the dummy with a vengeance, as if it had personally offended her honor. The dummy was dented and chipped, but she showed no sign of relenting. Podrick kept his distance.

"Something's got her in a fury." Podrick jumped and turned to see Ser Jaime observing Brienne was a bemused expression. "What's befallen her?"

Podrick shrugged. "She received a letter from Lord Selwyn. He asked her to become Lady of House Tarth," he explained. "She leaves in the morning. Ser Jaime? Are you all right?"

Jaime was scowling. Without another word he marched down the hill, just as Brienne gripped her sword with both hands. She raised it high and swung with her whole body, knocking the head off the dummy. The head soared through the air toward Jaime, who caught it in one hand. She paused, panting for breath with her hair falling into her eyes.

Jaime walked up to her and set the head on the dummy's shoulders. He looked at her, and she looked back at him. Finally Jaime broke the silence. "Come spar with me," he said as he picked up a sword. She nodded and followed him to an open field.

Jaime planted his feet and raised the sword in his left hand. He watched Brienne's movements, looking for a chance to strike. He didn't see an opening, but he jumped forward anyway and slashed at her. She easily raised her sword and blocked his strike. "I hear you're leaving for Tarth," he said while bearing down on his sword.

"I am. My father wishes that I would marry." Brienne shoved her sword and threw Jaime back. He took two steps backwards, twirled his sword like a baton, and prepared to strike again.

"Will you do it?" He asked before stepping in to jab.

Brienne automatically twisted out of the way and shoved him to the ground. "Return to Tarth, yes. Marry a lord, no!" She didn't sound convinced even as she said it.

Jaime rolled to his feet and picked up his sword. "You'll have to marry to continue the house name," he observed. He swung his sword at her head. She raised her sword to block, and he quickly kicked her in the ribs. As she staggered back, he mused "Maybe you'll be happy with your lord. You loved Renly, you can love again."

"Renly was kind to dance with me, but he didn't love me." Brienne looked sadly at the ground before leaping forward and swinging hard at Jaime. With her strength, she almost knocked the sword from Jaime's one-handed grip. Without pausing, she swung again. Jaime grunted and braced himself to block. Brienne suddenly changed direction, sending his sword clattering to the ground. "My father used to throw grand balls, hoping to find me a suitor. The young lords laughed and mocked me."

Jaime retrieved his sword and prepared to fight again. "Ser Brienne, any lord would be lucky to have you as his lady and his sparring partner." He sounded so earnest that she lost concentration for half a second. Jaime saw his chance and lunged. She froze with her weapon half-raised, as Jaime stopped his sword inches from her face.

She stepped back and settled into fighting stance. Her face felt warm. "I would be happy just to keep fighting and training, as we are now." She took two deep breaths and then attacked again.

_She would be happy passing the years with me, into the future? Did she mean that?_ Jaime had no time to ponder the thought. They sparred until dusk, when they could no longer see. The next morning, Brienne left alone for Tarth.


	2. The Absence

Lord Selwyn waited at the docks, a spring in his step and a song in his heart. He was giddy with excitement. The seas glimmered a deep sapphire blue, sparkling with golden sunlight. In the distance, a ship appeared, escorted by joyous dancing waves. If the seas had been gray and storming, he would have found it beautiful all the same. His daughter was coming home.

Brienne scanned the crowds until she saw her father. She jumped off the deck onto the docks and gave him a bear hug. "I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Bri-Bri! Come, tell me of your adventures." They rode a carriage home, then spent the afternoon visiting Brienne's favorite parts of the island, with Brienne narrating her travels. Lord Selwyn was an excellent audience. He exclaimed at her victories, held his breath as she told of battles, and gasped at the right places. He asked her to demonstrate her sword skills, and she beat him decisively but gently. Brienne laughed often and spoke freely, feeling at ease on her home island.

"It's hard to believe you've become such fast friends with Jaime Lannister", he mused. "The man was once the most skilled swordsman in King's Landing. He's reputed to be a scoundrel though. Besides kingslaying, rumors are that he fathered his sister's bastard children. Be wary around him."

"Father, Ser Jaime is not like that. He is a man of honor." Brienne suddenly felt shy, but she pressed on. "You said yourself that King Aerys was mad. Ser Jaime saved a lot of innocent people."

Lord Selwyn gave Brienne a sharp look, and she tried to hide the flaming in her cheeks. "That may be so, but he still slept with his sister," he reminded her. "Such a man is dishonorable with women and dishonorable in love."

"But. . . that's. . . ." Brienne couldn't find the words to defend Jaime's relationship with his sister. At last she shook her head and produced a phrase from the depths of her memory. "We don't get to choose whom we love."

"Jaime Lannister may not, but you may soon get the chance." Lord Selwyn's expression was warm again. "Enough about the Kingslayer. We have some friends visiting us tomorrow, the lords Wyndsor, Cambredge, and Sossex. You may take a liking to them."

Brienne sighed inwardly, but she replied brightly. "I will be happy to meet them."

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A week of the lords' dull presence, and Brienne was ready to tear her hair out. The lords spoke endlessly of themselves and their accomplishments. It was worse than Tormund's tales of giants and bears. At least Tormund was amusing. When Brienne spoke of her travels, they scrambled to change the subject. "How horrible," they said. "Let us not speak of such dreadful things."

_It wasn't horrible,_ Brienne wanted to scream. Not all of it, at least. _It was the best and the worst time of my life. I learned the meaning of courage and honor. I served an honorable king and two honorable ladies. I became the swordfighter I always dreamed of becoming. I became a knight, a dream I never dared to think. I fought on the side of the living, where our differences melted away like the winter snow. As we faced down death, we were all family, born of the same blood, standing and bleeding side by side. . . . _

She thought of Jaime guarding her back, keeping her alive as hundreds of wights surrounded them. The battlefield was her home, but it felt kingdoms away as she sat among the lords.

More than anything, she longed for a good sparring match. Once she had asked the lords to practice with her. They had laughed as if she'd made a funny joke. "I mean it," she insisted. They had protested at the unseemliness of fighting a woman. "Need I remind you I'm the first woman knight in the seven kingdoms?" She had demanded. The lords had fidgeted and made excuses.

Worst of all was the way they avoided looking her in the eye, preferring instead to look to the side while talking to her. Sometimes a lord would meet her gaze by accident, then quickly look away. _Am I so disgusting to behold,_ Brienne wondered? Beneath her anger was a burning humiliation._ Jaime doesn't look away. He always watches me closely when we train together._

After a week, Lord Selwyn came to Brienne with a plan for a grand ball. He would send announcements to all corners of the seven kingdoms, invitations to vie for Lady Brienne's hand. There would be dancing. The pit of dread returned to Brienne's stomach. "No, father, please," She begged. "No more balls."

"You've turned down every lord on the island." Lord Selwyn looked so tired and sad that Brienne almost relented.

Suddenly, she heard Jaime's voice in her mind. _Any lord would be lucky to have you as his sparring partner. _"I've got it," she began with fresh inspiration. "Please organize a tournament for me instead. I will fight any challenger who is prepared to face me in the arena. Whoever defeats my sword in battle shall have my hand in marriage. At least then I will have a skilled sparring partner."

A slow smile was spreading across Lord Selwyn's face. "You promise to marry the challenger who defeats you in battle?"

"I swear it."

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Jaime paced down the training field, then he paced back. He had spent the morning training the recruits, with perhaps a little more roughness than usual. He was restless.

Maybe he wasn't training hard enough. He had three of the recruits fight him at once, and he was soundly beaten for his bright idea. He pulled himself up and brushed the dust off his jacket. He was still restless. It wasn't the same.

In the afternoon, Tyrion caught him pacing the halls. "If you keep that up you'll wear the stones into sand," he chided. "You haven't been yourself lately. Is something on your mind?"

"I wish I knew," Jaime replied tiredly. The truth was he had a pretty good idea. Last night he had dreamed of Tarth. Although he hadn't been to Tarth, he recognized it by the familiar blue of the water. He hadn't seen that particular blue in ages. In the distance stood a tall figure. He ran towards the figure, but he couldn't get closer. He awoke with a pang in his throat.

"Care to say more?" Tyrion waited, then sighed. "As long as you're up, come have a drink with me."

"I might as well." Jaime listlessly followed Tyrion to his room. Wine just didn't taste as good these days. It wasn't the same.

"Oh, before I forget, I have something you might want to see." The glint in Tyrion's eye belied his casual tone as he waved a scroll at Jaime. Jaime read the formal announcement, written on heavy parchment.

_Lord Selwyn Tarth _

_Is pleased to announce _

_A tournament of the sword._

_Whosoever shall defeat_

_His daughter, __Ser Brienne Tarth, _

_In the arena, shall win_

_Lordship of House Tarth_

_And the hand of his daughter_

_In marriage._

Jaime smiled fondly despite himself. "At least it's not a grand ball. Brienne would rather fight another bear than attend one of those." His smile faded as he added, "I suppose she'll meet her betrothed there." He stood up to leave but found Tyrion blocking the door.

"I'm not through with you," Tyrion said sharply. "Do you think anyone in attendance can best Ser Brienne with a sword?"

"I could have if I still had my right hand," Jaime answered wistfully.

"Maybe you still can," Tyrion replied. The glint was back in his eye. "Go to the tournament and fight for Ser Brienne's hand."

Jaime shook his head. "That's a strange idea. I don't want to marry her."

"Of course you don't. That's why you followed her around from morning until night." Tyrion rolled his eyes. His poor brother could be so dense.

Jaime was frozen in thought. Suddenly, his back straightened, and he jumped up with renewed energy. "Thank you, brother!" He called over his shoulder as he swept out of the room. He had a lot of training to do.


	3. The Return

The day of the tournament! Brienne woke early, filled with nervous energy. She picked at her breakfast without seeing it, then rushed to her room, where Lord Selwyn was waiting for her. "Don't wear yourself out before your big battle," Lord Selwyn told her warmly. "The arena is all prepared for you. Are you ready for your big day?"

"Yes," Brienne smiled confidently. "There are few swordsmen in the land who are my equal, and even fewer who are looking for brides."

"You haven't met every swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms," Lord Selwyn reminded her. "One of them might surprise you, or perhaps several. Who will you marry if more than one defeats you?"

"I'll marry the first to do so. You don't need to be the best fighter to kill the enemy, merely the first."

"You may not be marrying the best fighter then."

"Oh, father," Brienne said affectionately. "I'm quite good with a sword. Any man who beats me will be plenty skilled."

Lord Selwyn cleared his throat, and his eyes were bright. "Your mother would be so proud to see you today. This was your mother's." He handed her a polished blue pin in the shape of the moon. "It's lapiz lazuli, as there are no sapphires on Tarth. I pray that the Warrior will guide your blade, and the Maiden will guide your heart."

Brienne's eyes were also bright with tears as she said, "Thank you father, I'll wear it proudly."

Lord Selwyn nodded. He started to speak, then swallowed. Finally he said in a shaky voice, "I'll leave you now to get ready." Lord Selwyn wiped at his eyes as he left the room.

Brienne put on a fresh linen shirt and trousers. She brushed her hair back, out of her eyes, and fastened it in place with the pin. She stepped up to her cobalt armor. She traced the design on the breastplate with her fingertip. Her finger stopped at the bottom of the V. She stood there, lost in thought with a faint smile on her face.

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The first challenger strutted into the arena with a large feathered plume and a smug expression. "My lady, I am Lord Maximilian Princeton, son of Lord Ebenezer Princeton. I will be gentle as I disarm you-oof!" Brienne punched him hard in the stomach. The crowd cheered.

"That's Ser to you. Next!"

The morning passed slowly.

Brienne fought a nervous young lad. He reminded her of Pod when he first began training, except for how he avoided looking at her face. Annoyance bubbled up in her. When he swung at her, she ducked under his sword and kicked him in the side.

Brienne fought a knight in ornate armor. His shield and breastplate were emblazoned with gilded decorations and crests. He paraded past Lord Selwyn, pointedly displaying his decorations. Brienne knocked his knees out from under him and stepped on his back.

Noontime came and went, with all the guests treated to a grand feast. Brienne ate carefully, just enough to keep her energy high without slowing her down.

The afternoon passed slowly.

Brienne fought a Dornish knight. He was not as strong as her, but agile and skilled with a spear. She thought about letting him win, so she'd at least have someone to train with. He saw her hesitation and pressed forward.

The sunlight glinted off his spear tip and into her eyes, dulling her eyesight. In his place, she saw a familiar vision, charging at her with left arm raised high. The moment passed, and she was again sparring with the Dornish knight. An aching longing filled her chest, and she couldn't bear the thought of marrying him. She knocked his spear aside and threw him to the ground.

Brienne's favorite fight of the day was a little girl, no more than ten years old. Her parents were cheering from the sidelines. She looked up at Brienne with big brown eyes and eagerly announced, "I want to be a big strong knight like you!" Brienne smiled and let her take a few swings. She threw a few slow strikes and let the girl block. Then she neatly disarmed the girl and held out her hand. "Good fight," she told her over a handshake. "Your family is safe with you around! Keep on training." The girl nodded, looking starstruck.

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The sun was low in the sky when the gates opened for the last challenger. Brienne looked curiously at the cloaked figure. Unlike the others, this one was dressed in a plain, dark cloak, unadorned with emblems or sigils. The challenger's face was hidden under a hood, and the cloak shrouded his body from shoulders to boots. Yet something was familiar about his posture and his gait.

The unknown man reached up with his left hand, revealing a flash of gold from under his cloak. With a flourish, he lowered his hood and threw the cloak aside. Brienne and the audience gasped.

"Ser Brienne," Jaime greeted her with a formal nod and a smirk.

"Ser Jaime." Brienne's thoughts were frozen, but she heard herself returning the greeting.

"It's been a while," Jaime said conversationally. His left arm raised his sword, and he crouched ready to strike. He was still smiling.

"What are you doing here?" Brienne warily circled around him with her sword between them.

"I'm here to best you in a swordfight," Jaime replied. "Obviously."

"We both know you can't beat me."

"Oh, I've been practicing." Jaime circled in the opposite direction. "And you've been fighting all day."

"But why are you here?"

"To fight for lordship of House Tarth and your hand."

Brienne couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Don't mock me, Ser Jaime. Why are you really here?" It was so like him, to talk in circles and not give a straight answer. The more she tried to make sense of Jaime, the more confused she got. "I cannot match your tongue, and I cannot make you talk sense, so I'll match you with my sword." Brienne pressed her feet into the dirt and darted forward.

Jaime took a step back as Brienne took a quick jab. He blocked her sword and flicked it back at her. "As I said, I received your father's invitation, and I am here to fight for your hand." He slashed at her and she jumped back. They eyed each other and resumed circling.

"I'm not sure you're aware, that means marrying me."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I know that!" Jaime laughed. "I'm a Lannister. Do you really think I got to be an adult Lannister without learning what 'the hand of his daughter in marriage' means?" With that, he leaped forward and unleashed a flurry of sharp, precise strikes. The crowd gasped and cheered. Even with one hand, Jaime was producing a beautiful, graceful performance. He was truly among the best swordfighters in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Sorry. My mistake. I just don't understand why you'd come." Sweat drenched Brienne's neck and back. She blocked and pushed his blade to the side, then slashed downward at him.

Jaime seemed to anticipate the strike. "You shouldn't grimace before you lunge," Jaime said with twinkling eyes. "It gives the game away." He attacked again, pushing her back step by step. Soon she would have her back against a wall.

Gaining the upper hand had emboldened Jaime. "You didn't understand why I rode north to Winterfell either," he said as his blade crashed against hers. "What difference could one man make to the battle? Why would I ride to my death?" He swung his sword in an outward arc, and she twisted to meet it with hers. "I came to Winterfell to find you." Their swords rang as they separated. "And I came to Tarth to find you." He flipped his hand and swung horizontally inward. She angled her blade down and knocked it back. "And I'm fighting you now because. . . . "

"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Jaime raised his sword high and brought it down with all his might. A great clang echoed around the arena as she blocked with her sword tightly gripped in both hands. They wrestled in place, him bearing down and her pushing up, both panting hard.

His eyes locked upon hers, and he was suddenly lost in her wide-eyed gaze. For a moment he stood in place, stunned.

Brienne abruptly released the pressure on her sword, sending Jaime off balance. She dodged his falling blade and rammed him hard with her shoulder. When he stumbled, she struck his sword decisively and knocked it from his hand.

A hush fell over the crowd. Jaime's expression changed from shock to dismay. But Brienne was smiling when she spoke into the silence. "And I, you. But you'll have to try harder to beat me, and only then will I marry you."

A look of relief, then tender affection spread over Jaime's face. Then a single, slow clap rose up from the stands, which grew to thunderous applause. Soon, the audience was on its feet, screaming and cheering. Lord Selwyn strode onto the field, took Brienne's hand, and raised it to the sky. "May I present! Ser Brienne Tarth! The champion! Of the tournament!"


	4. Epilogue

Jaime admired himself in the mirror and fluffed at his hair. "In a few hours, I will be Jaime Tarth, Lord of House Tarth." He turned to admire his red and gold robes from all angles.

"No, you will still be Jaime Lannister, Lord of House Lannister," Brienne corrected him. "House Lannister needs a lord." She was wearing a cornflower-blue dress. Tea-length, without a train, so as not to inhibit her movement. Her hair was swept to the side and fastened with her lapis pin.

"Tyrion can be Lord Lannister," Jaime protested.

"Tyrion has been Lord Stark since he married Sansa," Brienne patiently explained.

"Why can't Tyrion and Sansa be Lord and Lady Lannister? Jon Snow can be Lord Stark."

"Jon Snow is Lord Targaryen."

"Right. Then Arya can be Lady Stark."

"No, Arya is Lady Baratheon now. And before you ask, Bran is the three-eyed-raven. He refuses to be lord of any house."

"What does Bran have to do with me?"

Brienne sighed. "Sansa is the only Stark who can be head of House Stark, so Tyrion is Lord Stark. That makes you Lord Lannister."

"Well then who is head of House Tarth?"

"I am Lady Tarth."

"But you'll become Lady Lannister." Jaime thought hard. "What happens to the future of House Tarth, the reason your father called on you to return?"

"One of our children can become Lord or Lady Tarth?" Brienne sounded uncertain.

"We can join our houses as Lord and Lady Lannister-Tarth," Jaime declared.

"That will do," Brienne agreed.

So they were married, they traveled far and wide as knights protecting the innocent, and they lived happily ever after.

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**Author's Notes**

The dilemma Brienne faces in chapter 3, choosing a suitor based on sword skill, is commonly known as the Secretary Problem. First, the setup: The tournament invitation stated that any challenger who defeated her could marry her. Brienne likes to uphold her oaths, so it is imperative that the tournament be stopped the first time she is defeated. If she allowed two or more to defeat her, then she could not uphold her promise and marry them all.

The question she faces is when to stop the tournament. She fights a Dornish knight who is "pretty good". If she lets him win, then she loses the possibility of encountering an even better challenger later. But if she crushes him, and he turns out to be the best among them, then she may have to settle for a lesser fighter later.

Brienne's solution is the classical one: To decide upon a threshold that is "good enough", and to take any suitor who meets that threshold. Unfortunately for her, she required a suitor to defeat her, and few in the land can meet that stringent requirement. It is lucky for her that Jaime appeared.

The titles of the chapters are a reference to Beethoven's Lebewohl sonata.


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